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Because of you
Creator: ☀''this was taken from creepypasta wiki credit goes to the original author'' . Because of You! There is nothing that I don't feel guilty for, nothing at all. It all is buried in my mind and will be there until the day I die. The horror of what I did to them cannot be erased nor changed. I was the one driving, we were just coming back from a party, it was my four friends, Mark, Tim, Sophia, Andrew and I in the car. I wasn't paying enough attention so when the corner came up I hit the brakes, but they didn't work... and the rest I do not remember. I remember waking up in the hospital, the smell of the disinfectant they used in there and the screams of joy from my family as I awoke. It was three days from that point that they told me what happened that night... the passengers in the car were dead, we had hit a tree and I was the only one to survive. When they told me that it felt as if knives were stabbing me in the gut, it only seemed like a few nights ago I was with them, but in reality I had been in a coma for eighteen days. I do not expect you to understand what the feeling is like when you miss your friend's funerals, I do not expect you to know what it is like to have killed your friends. The police had told me that it was mechanical error that caused the crash, but I don't agree with that I took my eyes of the road, I might've been able to correct it. I remember on my last night in the hospital I heard a whisper, not loud, it was barely audible out of the four or five words that were said I only heard one, 'you'... As I turned to where I had heard the voice coming from I thought I saw a shadow sprint across the room. I tried in vain to stay awake, but eventually the darkness enclosed me and I slept. The next day I asked doctors about what happened and they told me that it could be from the injuries I had gained from the crash and not to think much of it, just to get rest and make sure I stay hydrated and eventually they will go away. When I finally got home I felt comfortable and decided to check out my Facebook page. I had forty two messages, most of them were abuse due to what had happened, although some of the people had also sent apologies for what I was going through an tried to be empathetic. I was just about to log off, but a message came up, it was from Andrew! I took a deep breath and had a look at the message, it simply said, 'Because of you I am dead!'. I yelled for my dad and he rushed in he saw the message. He cursed and went off his head about how much Andrew's dad couldn't deal with Andrew's death and clearly he was trying to scare me. It never went away, it stuck with me, it never went away. If scaring me was his intention, he did a damn good job of it! A sick joke, but I understand why he did it, to everyone but the police, it was my fault. it was days before anything happened again, I was walking to the servo (Australian slang for gas station) to go get a Coke. There was something watching me. I couldn't see it at first, but I could feel it. I was filled with a coldness, I didn't know what it was. My shoulder felt the coldness the worst. I realised, it was a hand, I turned around to punch it, but there was no one there, the only person was on the other side of the road. They looked familiar. I noticed who it was, it was Sophia! She pointed and screamed at me as blood dripped from her mouth, I froze. I didn't know what to do, then she vanished. I wish I had died. I was trying to sleep that night, all I could hear was whispers until there was a high pitch whisper! I woke up, but I didn't dare get out of my bed. They were all there, Tim, Sophia, Andrew and Mark! They looked normal, until Andrew looked at me and said, 'Because of you, I am dead!' He then proceeded to pull shards of glass out of his face, blood gushing out of the wounds, but there wasn't screams from him, only laughter and that was all. Then once again they disappeared. It is my fault they died, so as the bible says, an eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Jack Glieson was found in his room, this was the last thing he wrote before he killed himself. Six shards of glass were found on his bed.